Where Have All the Elves Gone?
by Lucillia
Summary: There was a time when Man wasn't the only sentient species on Earth. That time ended nearly a thousand years ago when a war in the stars came to the Sol system.
1. Who Are You?

There are six questions that are generally asked when you encounter another person when you are on a journey. On some trips, you won't be asked all of them, and on others you may be asked many more questions than the basic six. Each person you meet during your journey may ask you one of them, some of them, or none of them. During the travels that I shall relate to you, I was asked only five of the six questions, but I shall answer all six nonetheless.

The first question you are likely to encounter in myriad forms and languages, asked along the road, at the property line of a farm, or from the gate of a massive fortress no matter what world you are on is "Who are you?"

"Who are you?", as well as being the favorite question of a hooka smoking caterpillar is the favorite question of the first alien species I encountered. But, I am getting ahead of myself.

When they ask you this question, most people will be satisfied with a short answer, such as your name.

To understand who I am, you must first know what I am. To know what I am, you must first suspend disbelief, as what I am is completely unbelievable in this age of computers and cell phones and other such technological wonders that have been created with little thought of the costs and consequences.

Long ago, before this modern age of science, in a time that falls roughly between history and legend and is a mix of both, Earth was populated by at least four different sentient species, one of which is man. Two of the species that had co-existed reasonably well for ages were roughly the same shape and size, with a head, two arms, two legs, two eyes, two ears, a nose, a mouth, a pair of hands with ten fingers each and a pair of feet with ten toes each. The third species, well, the third could be just about any shape and size it wanted to be. The fourth species was reptilian and looked very much so, though there was speculation that they were merely members of the third species who preferred that form for whatever reason.

After the virtual extinction of three of these races who had already been rather reclusive more than seven centuries ago while man was stumbling out of the Dark Ages, our kind fell completely into the realm of myth and legend which we had already occupied to a great extent due to abilities we had possessed that had seemed miraculous to the minds of man, and all true accounts of us were taken as such. Time, oral tradition which invariably changes the stories which are passed down over the generations, and the popular fiction of several ages have distorted the facts of what we were.

For those who are wondering why archaeologists haven't discovered our existence, they have, and have mistaken it for human activity. With one species having a near identical bone structure, another having no bone structure at all, and the third possibly being the second in a much larger and scalier and more winged disguise than usual...

The first of the three sentient species that are gone from the world - if one doesn't count the small handful of half-breeds who survived the dying off - was roughly the same shape and size as the humans they sometimes lived alongside, and whose world they sometimes wandered through from time to time. Unlike the humans whose lives were like those of mayflies in their eyes however, these beings could live for millenia without dying of old age. A member of that race was thousands of times more likely to die of illness or injury (accidental or otherwise) than to reach an age that would be old enough to kill.

For such a long lived species, they left very little behind. It was probably because they had such long lives and so many years to contemplate the consequences of their actions before they made them that their dwelling places were so transitory. Even stone crumbles to dust one day, and wood, cloth, and animal hides are so much easier to repair, and so much easier to cast aside when they could no longer be fixed.

The second of the species that no longer walk the Earth were able to take almost any shape or form that they wished. They had a tendency towards being merry pranksters who would often take the most outlandish shapes they or anyone else could think of just for the heck of it. Some people loved them, some people hated them, and a great many didn't realize that they existed because they could pass themselves off as any human or animal they desired.

When it came to those who could change their shape at will, having a skeleton would have been something of a drawback. The species that most closely resembled their true and natural shape was the jellyfish. With little need to make things of their own and little to leave behind after they died, their passing left almost no impression on the physical world, and pretty much all there is to remember them by is the mark they and thier frequent mischief made on human mythology.

The third species that is no more - though they could have just as easily been members of the second species who had taken that shape for their own personal amusement - had been a species of intelligent reptile to whom flying wasn't an impossibility, though how they did it was up for debate. Upon reaching space and learning of other races who possessed strange abilities of their own, one of the running theories became that they were telekinetic.

If any of their remains have been found, nobody is talking.

In this day and age of film where regional myths, legends, and superstitions are made known to the whole world, it is possible that you may be able to recognize at least two of these species from the scant information provided, and equally possible that you would scoff and call me mad for claiming that they had existed.

As for me...Well, while I call one of the lost races my kind, that is only half true. I am actually one of the small handful of half-breeds that survived. Before you get up in arms about the impossibility of mixing different species, one must point out the mule, the liger, and several other hybrid creatures. Quite often, the resulting hybrid will possess the best traits of both of his or her parents, and be sterile or so close to sterile that it doesn't really matter. I'm no exception.

Over the millenia there have been tales of immortals in both legend and popular fiction who wander through the world without leaving a mark on it, unable to go home because the people who made it home have long since been buried, and the places in which they had once lived have long since crumpled to dust and lay forgotten like the kingdom of the once great Ozymandias. I guess I could be considered to be one of them.

As for who I am, though I have gone by many names throughout my long life, I was born Publius Caelius Caldus, and I am what your kind would quite likely call an Elf.

I shall now tell you exactly why my kind are gone from your world...

**Edited 1-26-12**


	2. What Do You Want?

The second question a traveler is likely to be asked on their journey is "What do you want?". Many will ask this out of fear, many will ask out of curiosity, and many more will ask with the intent of getting as much of your money as they can via the provision of some sort of good or service.

"What do you want?" was the favorite question of an alien race that I and the ones who are no more had believed to be our enemy. We had been told that they were our enemy by those who had led us away from our fair world before destroying us as they said that that these "Shadows" would have done.

What I want, I cannot have. I want to go home again. I want to wander forests that are home to my brethren, and hear the voices of my kin. I want to wander the world and hear the laughter of the shape-changers as they run from the scene of their latest pranks, shifting form as they do so. I want to see one of the old ones flying overhead.

I will never be able to do any of these things and more thanks to the war that came to our world several centuries ago. A war that few if any humans knew about and nobody remembers in this day and age.

Many people will claim that they who are most like mankind are the most dangerous. In my opinion they are not. It is the races that look and act like gods that are the most dangerous creatures you will encounter in the vast sea of stars that our world drifts through.

If you find the concept of the existence of what you call Elves, Shapeshifters, and Dragons to be completely unbelievable, then you most likely wouldn't believe in the existence in aliens. The truth is we did exist, and so do they. Most of the races you'll encounter throughout the Galaxy are much like humankind in several ways including their basic shape and certain outlooks on life. It is mainly a difference in internal structure and biology that separate them from man.

It was not these manlike creatures who brought war to our world and death to those who had shared the world peacefully with humankind. The war that came to our world was fought between a pair of ancient races who dragged a good number of the younger manlike races into the struggle, supposedly for our own good.

One race, the one we'd been told was the enemy, had both looked and acted like the demons you encounter in any number of folk tales, and the other had looked and acted like angels or like the more benevolent gods. To understand why it is my belief that the race that looked and acted like angels was the more dangerous, one must remember that despite the cutesy modern depictions you see on knickknack shelves, angels are warriors. Unlike demons and humans who can be tricked and turned aside in their quest, when an angel believes his cause to be the right one, it will do what it believes to be necessary irregardless of the cost in lives amongst other things and stop at nothing to finish its crusade.

Back in those days when I never really bothered considering the stars to be anything more than beautiful lights in the skies since they had no bearing on my simple life on the ground, back during the High Middle Ages, the Vorlons came to Earth.

The Vorlons - who like to ask people who they were and not accept the simple answer - were luminous telepathic beings that seemed to be made of pure energy who were at war with a race that was simply called the Shadows. When the Vorlons had come to Earth, it had quite likely been to build a base of some sort like they had done on any number of worlds. By the time they left, they had recruited a sizable number of members of the races that shared Earth with mankind to their cause and - unknown to us until it was too late - left something behind that would destroy us because we were "stagnant", and the humans - who were as yet primitive and still in need of guidance - were not.

When the Vorlons had first arrived, they found that - despite being a rather primitive world - Earth was rather unusually populated by three or four intelligent species rather than the normal one or two. One species - the humans - were just getting the hang of the whole civilization thing, having had it for the last ten thousand years or so, and were just getting off the ground when it came to science and technology. The other two or three who had been around much longer than mankind and were well versed in the theoretical through long years of theoretical exercises and careful observation of the world around them hadn't really bothered too much with the practical applications of science, preferring to live in transient dwellings like the ones built by their ancestors and to use tools that had worked well enough for them for ages upon ages.

Why bother building something that makes a job go faster when everything you have already works just fine and you have all the time in the world? Sure, any one of the three races or all three working together could've probably built a rocket if they put their minds and hands to it, but at what cost to the environment?

After looking around and seeing that the humans weren't ready to accept the greater universe outside their small home, the Vorlons had limited their recruitment drives to those who knew of the outside universe in theory and were prepared to accept it as fact into the war effort, finding their enclaves and hidden places, and telling them of the threat amongst the stars that would be coming to their world to destroy them soon. Many beings from each race joined them, mostly those who were considered to be young amongst our kinds.

It was usually the young who were inclined to leave home, and I who had been a soldier several times before and was still in the stage of Wandering had been one of the first recruits.

Amongst those of my kind - my mother's kind rather - individuals often went through a period between childhood and what her kind considered true adulthood, which is called the stage of Wandering. It is during this time, flush with the excitement of youth, that we wander where we will and act how we will without pausing a year or two to consider the possible consequences of our actions. For a few centuries or even millenia, we wander the world, seeing, hearing, exploring, and experiencing before we find a place to settle down for our remaining adult lives.

My time of Wandering began in the early days of Christianity. When the Vorlons came, it was not quite finished as I still felt my feet itch at the thought of traveling the open road one last time, and now it will never be over, because the world around me changes much too quickly, and if I try to remain in one place for more than a couple decades, people will notice, and questions will be asked. Some questions I'm not willing to answer, and some I can't.

When the Vorlons came to the enclave where I had almost completely settled, they came bearing tales of a fearsome race called Shadows who would not hesitate to annihilate all of our races before laying our world to waste. I, who had taken up my sword for any number of just causes - and some not so just causes - felt that the cause was worthy enough to take up my sword once more. Earth was my home.

By the time it was time for me to leave Earth, what I had wanted was to protect my home.

I can tell you from experience that the first view of Earth from space is indescribably beautiful and heartbreaking all at once, especially when you see how truly small and fragile the place you had once thought to be a boundless place of wonders truly is.

I and the others who had chosen to go to war along with me only got a quick glimpse of this precious jewel set in space before we were on our way to a battlefield several light-years away. It was there that we were introduced to the Mimbari on whose ships we would be serving.

**Edited 1-26-13**


	3. Where Are You Going?

For many travelers, the next question they would be asked would be, "Where are you going?". Now, my answer is "Nowhere in particular.", as I have nowhere in particular to go or be. Several centuries ago however, the answer had been "To war.".

Everyone knows that war changes a person, be it on the ground or amongst the stars. I had felt it change me any number of times over the centuries that I'd picked up my sword as I watched men fall beside me, and stood a mere sword's thrust or arrow piercing from death despite the fact that I was practically immortal. To one who has only experienced war on the ground, war amongst the stars is a different beast entirely. While there are any number of dirtside campaigns that take place on hundreds of different alien worlds in environments that one would previously find unimaginable, many of which are now burnt out cinders that will no longer support life, most of the battles are ship to ship.

Out amongst the stars, there are any number of people that are good to have at your back in a battle, just as there are many people whose hands you should carefully check to make sure they aren't carrying something to stick in your back. During the war I had thought to be just, as I was protecting my homeworld from an outside threat, I met many people and races who were one or the other, or even both at times. Most of them are gone now, the people I had fought alongside - being nearly as short lived as the humans I share a home with - having long since gone to dust and faded from memory. Any number of those races which I fought alongside and against are now just a memory in the minds of longer lived species or a footnote in the history of the shorter lived ones now as well.

The Mimbari were amongst the most memorable of the species I encountered despite having roughly average fighting prowess for the time, as - while they were fighting a war - they were also undergoing a societal reconstruction under the leadership of an unusual member of their species named Valen, who oddly enough knew what and where Earth was, and had been surprised to discover that I and a number of my brethren had actually come from there.

When I'd asked him why he'd been surprised to discover that my kind was from Earth, he'd given me what at the time I considered to be a bullshit answer, but now know to have been a rather ominous one.

"In time, all questions are answered." he had said in a ridiculously "mysterious" voice when I had asked.

"In time." indeed. The guy was obviously a time traveler of some sort who had gone to Earth at one point, a point that had been long after the extinction of my mother's people. My people. The people I had most identified with for more than a millennium and a half.

My rather brief meeting Valen in which the doom of my people had been foreshadowed was merely one odd event in a war that contained any number of odd events, weird coincidences, and outright miracles. Mostly however, the war had contained blood of a variety of colors including green, orange, and purple - especially after dirtside infantry campaigns - and death, lots and lots of death.

The vacuum of space silently sucks in all things, including friends who weren't strong enough to hang on against the steady pull of the universe until a hull breach could be sealed...

Considering any number of things that could go wrong amongst the stars, especially in times of war, my survival had been a miracle. There had been any number of times that I should have been permanently felled by an enemy's lucky shot, blown clear of an exploding ship rather than watching the ship next to mine explode, or fallen prey to an alien disease that had no cure. Survive I did however. I survived any number of campaigns, fought in any number of battles, and earned a name for myself that had practically been legend amongst the troops. A legend which has undoubtedly fallen from memory as there are very few if any alive who speak of Publius Caelius Caldus the warrior, and my name has not reached the history books of the world of my birth like those of Julius Caesar, and Mark Antony and any number of soldiers who were born centuries later than I.

Finally - after what would be an incredibly long time for a human, but a mere drop of the bucket for me and my brethren - the war ceased, the fighting ended for the most part, and I was ready to go home. After the battle that had destroyed the cities of Z'ha'dum and ended the war, an incredible wave of had homesickness hit me, nearly crippling me and I found myself longing to feel the grass of the meadows of my home beneath my feet. I had nearly forgotten what anything other than the stones of a world not my own or the deckplates of a starfaring vessel felt like after so many years away.

After nearly a decade of fighting, my answer to the question of where I was going changed to "Home.". I had grown sick of war, sick of the stars, and wished to wander more familiar paths, and make my way down roads to places I'd seen a hundred times before.

It is what I found when I finally got to my destination that earned the Vorlons my eternal hate. In order to promote the growth and expansion of the human race and to prevent them from being held back by those they had deemed "stagnant", they had released several viruses into the atmosphere that had been designed to specifically target the members of the sentient races who had shared their planet relatively peacefully with the humans for so long.

It was the blood of my human sire who had long since gone to dust that prevented me from sharing their fate.

When the last of those who had been purely of my mother's people breathed his last, my answer changed to "Nowhere.". It is only the biological imperative that kept my mother's species from committing suicide which I have inherited from her that has prevented me from taking my own life in the centuries since then, centuries in which I have been completely alone.

**Edited 1-26-13**


	4. Where Do You Come From?

The fourth question that is likely to be asked of a traveler is "Where do you come from?". People no matter the race are always curious about other places and the people who come from those places.

In my youth, I had been proud to say "Rome" when asked that question. Back then, Rome had been the greatest place in the world to me, and I had cared little or nothing for the surrounding universe no matter how vast it was. I had been proud to say that I was the son of a soldier who, despite the fact that I grew very slowly, had raised me until he'd died of old age.

As I grew to adulthood, I was carried and eventually walked from battlefield to battlefield as I followed my father and later my brothers and then my nephews to war all for the glory of Rome. Whether it was a Republic or an Empire, I was a true patriot, a true son of Rome.

When I was a little older and the grand Empire that I'd been raised in had fallen to ruin, I would smile sadly before I described the forests where my aunts and uncles and cousins had taken me in, happy to learn that there was something of their kinswoman that had survived after she'd died during her Time of Wandering in general terms. In that age, I had come from a good family. Not a proud family of soldiers that had stretched back and back and back to when the Etruscans were first coming into their heyday, but a good - and much older - family nonetheless.

In those days, I had not been happy because my young mind had been so filled with the memories of the glory of Rome which had so recently been lost. Because I had been so unhappy, my family had encouraged me to wander, to see the world that my mother had spoke so glowingly of before she had left that one final time, and to gain experience that I did not yet have. They had been confident that I would return after growing a little older and a little wiser and realizing that the forests were were I belonged like all Elven youths eventually did.

After many long years of wandering, return I did, and I prepared to settle down for a quiet life in the woods amongst my mother's kind.

Then, they came...

After leaving Earth, when I was asked that question, I tried to describe my world as best as I could. There had been no name for the planet back then, at least not one that had been created by its inhabitants.

When we shared stories of our homes, I would speak of the wide seemingly impassible oceans, the forests, the prairies, the mountains, the deserts, the strange human civilizations that were always growing and changing as empires were born and died, and my alien comrades would speak of crystal cities, worlds of verdant jungle, and vast empires that stretched across many systems in much the same way I spoke of my humble home.

When I met Valen that one time, a while after that space station had appeared seemingly out of nowhere to replace the one that had been destroyed, I had been understandably surprised when the Mimbari had recognized my homeworld based upon the brief descriptions I had given.

He of course had been surprised to discover that I was a native of that world. I can understand why now in this space between the more than seven centuries since my kind had died out and the unknown number of centuries until Valen is born and visits my world. My kind are myth, legend, thought to have sprung from the human imagination like other "Faerie" races and fantastic creatures such as kitsune and dragons and shape-shifters.

After the war, when my beloved who lay dying of the illness the Vorlons had left behind had asked "Where did you come from?", I'd smiled sadly and said "The stars".

Two weeks after my return, I was burying another wife, a wife who should have stayed by my side for all eternity.

After the last of my kind, and the last of the shape-shifters who had so loved mischief and never turned down a good fight if they thought they could win, and the last of the great Old Ones had left the Earth on that final journey from which nobody returns the same as they left if they even return at all, my answer to that question was "Nowhere".

Despite the fact that some structures still stood, everywhere I had known had changed beyond recognition. My first home had been shattered, and a bunch of kingdoms had been carved out of its remains. My second home was empty and fast disappearing as humans went deeper and deeper and cut down more and more, and the stars had always been a place I had wanted to return from.

With nobody waiting for me, there was no place I could call home. No real reason to live aside from the fact that I could not take my life, and everyone else who tried so far had failed.

Now, when I'm asked where I'm from, I smile sadly and quote a poem by Shelley. Though it is not entirely apt, the image it conjures up of that lone statue, that broken monument, standing in the middle of desolation and nothing else being the only thing to mark where there had once been greatness seems to convey the proper feeling. People of course think me insane for giving such an unusual answer, but that cannot be helped.

I am amongst the last in a place where an empire will not be rebuilt and a people never regained. When I and the few others who have survived the centuries are gone, there shall be no more.

When asked this question in the future, I do not know what my answer will be, but I feel that it will be the same unless some other quotable piece of poetry manages to strike me in the same way. There is nowhere for me to really be from because my home and my people are gone, and one century or five or ten or a thousand will not change that answer no matter how badly I may want it to.


	5. Why Are You Here?

The fifth question a traveler is likely to be asked is "Why are you here?". Many are curious to know why someone from somewhere else which is likely to be infinitely more interesting would come to their home/town/city/state/nation/planet/etc, and those of a more philosophical bent would want to know why anyone was anywhere in the first place, and if maybe you knew the answer, or at the very least an answer that was good enough to get the question to stop bothering them. Either way, the question gets asked, and asked quite often by everyone from the guy who wants to know why a tourist might show up to the law enforcement official who's wondering what the hell you're doing napping on someone else's property.

While I can easily curse fate as I say I don't know in answer to that question, the truth is I have one task to complete. I have to warn everyone about the true nature of the Vorlons before war comes again. And, when war comes again, I will do my utmost to rain destruction down on their heads.

When soldiers get together, we tend to gossip like a bunch of old biddies on our downtime. The one thing we'd talk about the most was home. We'd trade stories of our homeworlds, myths, legends, the antics of our siblings, children, and pets, and some basic history so there was some context for why what had happened was so funny.

There used to be a group of aliens who were from a race that wasn't quite as old as the Vorlons - but pretty damn old nonetheless - who used to smile at the antics of us "youngsters". They'd gone through the cycle of war a couple of times before the last one had finally wiped them out, and had seen it all before. Having seen it all before, they'd spotted the cycle, and the pattern, and had shared it with us.

Of course, being young and naive as we were, we hadn't listened.

I know that the Vorlons won't be satisfied with just wiping my kind out. They are going to be coming back for the humans, and - depending on how cooperative you are - they may or may not destroy you too.

In the buildup to each war, there's a centuries long cycle as the younger races that missed out on the last war start reaching the stars and discovering what's out there.

When the new ones start taking their first wobbly steps out of their cradle so to speak, the telepaths start appearing. At this point, the race will either exterminate the telepaths, tear themselves apart as one group struggles for dominance, or accept the telepaths and (try to) move on.

Eventually, after the tottering steps become more confident, one of the older races will discover them, and it would be time to join the galaxy at large. The last time around, it was the turn of the Mimbari and several other races, most of whom are extinct. This time, judging by the speed of technological advancements over the last two centuries, it will be the humans' turn.

There will then be a short period of peace that will last a couple of centuries in which the young races will either find their feet with the help of the older ones or they will be exterminated when they fail to adapt, or merely if fate is just against them. After this period of peace, there will be ill omens as the older ones start realizing that those who have fallen into legend and are believed extinct have started to return.

Eventually, the sides will be lined up after the Shadows and the Vorlons have had their pick of the younger races, having either promised them what they desire or told them of the threat that is out there for them. After the sides have been lined up, the attacks begin.

Then, the war begins.

After what had seemed to the younger races to be a long and lasting peace, the galaxy will be plunged into a bloody and seemingly endless war, and only those old enough and strong enough or those primitive enough to not yet be noticed will be left out of it.

Eventually, after a number of the "weaker" races have been killed off, there is a final push, and a final decisive end to the war after the Vorlons become "personally involved".

They say that there was a time when the Shadows an their allies won, and that it was a time of darkness and great suffering, but I wouldn't know since it was before my time. The time of darkness and suffering for me came after the Vorlons had decided that Earth was reserved for the humans because they were changing and growing, and they would need the room despite the fact that we took up little space, and were quite inclined to stay out of their way.

What I believe the Vorlons were afraid of would be that we would finally come out of hiding after the humans had cut down one tree too many in the name of progress, and start telling you to stop and think before you destroy everything, and end up delaying some all important discovery that leads to you reaching the stars in time for the next war in which you appeared on schedule to fight in the process. If you're delayed, it would be that many more resources they'd have to expend and that many more Vorlons they'd have to send in to shift you on path in order to bring you into the war after next.

Though I'm not a hundred percent certain, I believe that I may have nearly encountered a Vorlon in London at the height of that whole Jack the Ripper thing. If I have, then that means that the war is coming soon, sometime within the next five centuries or so. If that is the case, I will have to work all the more harder to warn whoever I can without tipping our hand so the remaining sentients on Earth can either be aware that neither the Shadows nor the Vorlons are their friends and act accordingly, or have enough warning that they stay out of the coming war altogether.

While I may seem like an odd looking madman ranting in the dark, the reason I am here is because I am the only one left on the planet who remembers the last war. The reason I will continue to be here in the future despite the fact that most of the time I'd like nothing more than to be with my mother's people, my people, is because I will be taking part in the next one.

While I won't be on either established side in the conflict, since while the Shadows aren't particularly my enemies, I wouldn't trust them any farther than I can throw the universe. I'm going to be the one who will be trying their damnedest to bring down both the Vorlons and the Shadows, even if I have to do it alone because - while I want the Vorlons gone - I can't take the risk that the Shadows will just take their place.

Odds are that I'll just finally get myself killed as I should have been during the last war, but at this point, there is nothing I'd like more. Because then, I'll be back with my family, and - if what the Mimbari and some Human religions say is true - we may be reborn in a better life than the one I've lived.


	6. Epilogue: Was the Journey Difficult?

The sixth question a traveler is likely to be asked in a number of different ways both when they are away and when they finally return home is "Was the journey a difficult one?"

Now, as when I told my story nearly three centuries ago, I will say yes.

While I have not gotten and will not get the justice for my people that I've craved for so long, I have lived long enough to see the young ones throw off the yoke the First Ones have placed on them and tell them where they can shove their endless cycle of war.

I've lived that long and no longer.

A Lurker who had mistaken my vocal dislike of the Vorlons as my being a Shadow sympathizer has managed to do what the Carthaginians, the Egyptians, the Celts, the Visigoths, the Anglo-Saxons, the Chinese, the Vikings, myriad alien races, the French, the English, the South, the Germans, the Japanese, the Indonesians, the Russians, the Dilgar, the Mimbari, the Shadows, and the Vorlons have failed to do. It wasn't due to any skill on his part however. I've been ready to die for a long time, and with the Vorlon's gone, there was nothing holding me back.

I held on the longest and I was the last, and you'll never see my like again. If your children hear the ancient fairy tales or read the accounts of prominent fantasy authors and ask you where all the Elves have gone, odds are that you won't have the answer because you didn't listen.

Yes, the journey was long and arduous, and now it's over.


End file.
